But there’s bigger news for us here: This gem remains a classic because Dorothy’s journey takes her from self doubt to self determination. We identify with her trek down the Yellow Brick Road in high hopes that The Wizard of Oz will save her and transport her back “home” to Kansas. In the end, (spoiler alert) The Wizard turns out to have no power, and Dorothy figures it out: the power to go home was inside of her all the time. She simply had to believe it.

Easy enough for Hollywood to say, right? In real life, Judy Garland drank herself into the next world, as insecurities consumed her. It’s a rough journey from the shadow of self doubt to the sunshine of self confidence, especially after an event like divorce.

In my experience, self doubt is the #1 roadblock hindering recovery after divorce, or any cataclysmic event, for that matter. The chorus is always the same: “I’m scared.”, “What do I do now?”, “Will this ever end?”, “I’m not strong enough”, “I don’t know how.” and the biggie – “I’m not good enough.”

Self doubt and the stories that we spin about ourselves because of it! Damn that self doubt! I’m no stranger to it, myself. Sometimes, I’d like to I dig it out of my brain with a shovel.

There’s an easier way.

Here are four avenues I share with my clients to make those first big steps back home to your more confident self.

Step one: Admit you’ve been through a tornado of life circumstances, and you’re not in Kansas anymore. You need help to get back home.

Before we continue, a word to the wise: Slogging through self doubt is a necessary part of moving forward. It gives you a base line for starting over.

As I tell my clients, if you want to grow roses, you have to dig around in the dirt for awhile.

Not everyone is prepared for the close self examination it takes to change story lines and dash self doubt. If you’re ready to sweat a little, and get your hands dirty planting the seeds of self determination, read on. Otherwise, come back to this blog when you’re ready to break through barriers holding you back. You’ll know when the time is right.

Sometimes, you’ll be able to unearth these self-defeating beliefs on your own. Other times, professional coaching or therapy can help to zoom in on what’s holding you back. I’m happy to help if you need guidance: click here.

Step two: Be willing to concede that your beliefs may be holding you back, and openly state that you’ll be uncomfortable while you dig through the dirt of your stories for awhile.

Step three:Keep a journal. Dump your insecurities out of your head and on to the paper. Read what you’ve written.

Where are the self-defeating beliefs? Write them down and ask yourself what solid evidence (not hearsay) do you have that they are true? How can you change that message? I suggest this phrase: “That story no longer serves me. I’m letting it go. That was then. This is now.”

Watch the words you use. As you write, circle these self doubt and self critical words: can’t, impossible, too hard, not good enough, never, should, ought to, supposed to. Become aware of what you’re telling yourself.

Step four: Turn off the bad news. Media channels are full of death, sadness or human failure. Don’t listen. Bad news worms its way into your brain and festers. It reduces your capacity to believe in yourself because it’s fear based. Stand tall in defense of yourself, and refuse to let bad news in. That includes watching fictional TV series full of blood and corruption.

Step five:When you start to say something negative – about anything – stop yourself. See what happens when you take away the burden of irritation and anger. Sure, some of it will linger, but you’ve given yourself a chance to rise to higher level. Additionally, your brain believes everything you tell it. Replace negativity with, “I choose not to be offended.” Or, my personal favorite, “Forward!”.

Here’s the thing: When you stop looking for someone to save you or tell you what to do, you look to the only source you can truly rely on: your own natural gifts.

There’s no power in Dorothy’s red slippers or the Wizard of Oz, after all. Plus, you don’t need to click your heels three times. You simply have to take the first step. Then the next. Keep going. Believing in your own personal power – and flipping self doubt into self daring – will unfold in front of you.

Need personal coaching or therapy to dash those demons of doubt? Contact me and we can begin the process together.

Lewis was a cat. No pedigree. No unusual markings. Just furry gray, huggable, and independent. In the last year, he managed to sneak out of the house twice. He nailed a few birds, even a ground squirrel – conquering his prey with only one tooth.

He lived with my daughter until this morning, when she made the brave, terrifying, agonizing decision to put him to sleep. Lewis’s diabetes had escalated. He was licking and scratching himself raw. He wasn’t eating. He was miserable. Medication didn’t seem to help. More tests meant dipping deep into savings.

Aside from “do not resuscitate” for human loved ones, I think there’s no pain worse than the knot in your stomach when you decide if your sick pet lives or dies by your hand. I watched my daughter struggle: Am I being selfish? The vet says he might get another year or two with expensive meds. Is this my fault because I moved him across country? Did I cause this when I left him with a cat sitter during business trips? Do I owe him more than this? Am I a mean, insensitive person? Then, the tears. He was her buddy. Did she have the right to kill him?

She’d adopted Lewis from the SPCA in New York City. He was 7 years old. He’d been caged for 8 months because no one wanted a “pre-diabetic” cat. Never mind that he was laid back, gentle (except if you are a bird or a mouse), and children didn’t phase him. He had a little indentation in his neck where we suspect a collar had been. We guessed someone abandoned him. He’d had full-on diabetes when the SPCA took him in. They reversed it and he reached pre-diabetic status.

My daughter fell in love with him, diabetes or not. Lewis lived with her for 3 years, including navigating a cross country move in the car. Never a peep. At the new house, life was good. Little kids tugged on his ears, and he ignored them. He had predator moments in the wild (her back yard). He ate expensive food to keep the diabetes at bay. Lewis was always hungry. He spent most of the day next to his bowl, just in case a passerby might drop a little goodie in it.

Then he got sicker. The vet listened and understood. The cat was not going to get better, she said. You’re doing everything right, but sometimes we must remember that no matter what we do, we will outlive our animals. We celebrate them at birth with our joy. We give them the best life we can. Then, we celebrate them at the end through our tears.

She decided to release his little soul.

A friend went with her. They talked about all the things that Lewis would do in kitty heaven. They cried together when the vet gently carried him away, the blue fluffy blanket wrapped around him. She kissed him on the head before she let him go. The vet promised her a little imprint of his paw in clay. She’ll frame it along with his picture.

Then, there’s moving on. It hurts like hell when she opens the back door after work and there’s no little furry gray head meowing for his dinner as if she’d never fed him. She tells herself she did the right thing. Of course she did.

Sometimes in life, there are no good choices. We make them, then we live with them. We keep going, and we grieve. They all hurt. They all draw criticism, even from ourselves. We do the best we can. And then we go forward.

One day, another kitten will appear at her doorstep. She’ll scoop him up and giggle with joy. He’ll never take Lewis’s place. But the circle of life with pets will begin again.

The depth of loss at endings enables the heights of joy at beginnings.

I offer this to you who are going through an ending – divorce or break-up. There are new beginnings ahead, in spite of the pain you feel now. It doesn’t diminish the good times. It simply means you keep going, and the cycle begins again with joy you think impossible right now.

Thank you for the laughter, the lessons, and love, Lewis. Rest in peace.

Seven years after my divorce, I believed my recovery was complete. I’d put those runaway divorce emotions to bed! Then, BAM! Out of nowhere comes a jolt of loneliness (for others, it might be jealousy, abandonment, anger, depression – any of the divorce emotional heavy hitters). Loneliness is my personal nemesis. It can pounce on me when I least expect it, even years after the gavel has come down – with the same impact as during the height of the divorce combat.

My job is to learn how to manage it, now, seven years later.

Today I said goodbye to a dear friend. No, not a funeral. She’s bright eyed and vivacious in her mid 60’s. She’s moving on – new job, new city, and new adventures. Tomorrow she flies to New York City where her journey begins. We gave each other hugs and the appropriate “Can’t wait to see your new place!” and “We have to set a regular time to talk.”

Truth told, I don’t know when I’ll see her again. I do know I’ll miss her terribly. I could feel the hole that her absence would leave. I told myself, “Be happy for her!” but I simply couldn’t conjure it up.

I walked slowly back to my car. It’s been several years since my divorce, but that familiar knot of loneliness came screaming back, cramping in my belly and tightening in my throat. Tears filled my eyes. She had such excitement ahead of her! And what was I doing with my life? I wanted what she had: an exhilarating new beginning with palpable what-happens-next exhilaration.

I had none of that. I was alone. I had recently ended a four-year relationship that I thought would be the love of my life. My adult kids have their own lives well beyond mine. Who needs me? I could feel the dark cloak of loneliness wrapping around my shoulders.

When I got home, I plunked myself on my couch. I cried hard.

Then came the mini intervention with myself. Let’s get real: I felt abandoned (everyone’s primal fear) and I felt jealousy, too. It’s so easy to see her grass as a lot greener than my own.

I didn’t want to be crippled, again, by those feelings so reminiscent of my divorce – loneliness, fear of abandonment, and jealousy? What could I do?

These are the steps I took to provide an escape hatch from the intensity of the loneliness that I felt:

Recognize this for what it is: A personal full blown pity party. It’s easy to slip into dramatic self-pity mode when you’re the one left behind, just as it was in my divorce. However, this is not my divorce, and my life will not be permanently altered. I’m feeling sorry for myself and it reminds me of divorce feelings. Note to self: gather up the drama and throw it in the garbage.

I am what I think! My brain believes everything I tell it. I can choose the thoughts to think. When the destructive lonely thoughts emerge, I can refuse to accept them! Like a surfer waiting for the right wave, I can simply say to myself: “That’s not the thought I want right now. I’ll wait for a better one.”

Get out the daily gratitude list that we’ve all been told to keep but somehow manage to forget. Write in it, right now! #1 – I am healthy and building a successful business. #2 – I have two grown daughters that love me very much. #3 – I’m blessed to live in a country where women aren’t persecuted and renounced. #4 – I’m much better off than I think I am. Need proof? Turn on the news.

Laughter is still the best medicine. Combine it with music, and it’s a winner! Here’s my favorite You Tube. Here’s my second favorite. Music and laughter heal the soul and they could heal mine!

I’ll get my derriere off the couch, and go for a walk. Physical exercise changes everything.

I’ll post self messages all around my house: “What little mini-miracles are in my life right now?”; “What’s happening right now that I can be grateful for?”; “Spread smiles!”

How to manage those emotional gremlins that continue rear their ugly heads long after the divorce is over? I’m convinced that it’s a lifelong process of well-prepared self-intervention.

The question to ask is: Will I be the strong woman I am, and seek out creative ways to handle this upswelling of emotion from the past? Or, will I be crippled each time I have a flashback?

Quarreling with your ex? Slinging words that cut like a knife in flesh? You’re not alone. We’ve all done it during our divorces. It’s ugly. Insults fly in both directions, and you hear yourself shouting a vulgar array of degrading digs. You’ve bypassed reason, and the vocal slams come from pure outrage. Within a matter of minutes, all pretense of civility is gone. Dignity and poise have evaporated. You’re both in the gutter, slapping around in the dirty verbal mud.

Check out these unbecoming and embarrassing phrases we’ve all blurted out in a fit of rage. (I’m the first to raise my hand. I’ll admit it – I said my fair share during my own divorce.) Recognize any of these gems?

Stop the presses. How did this happen? After all, you both agreed to meet peaceably and “work out” a touchy issue, so you can decelerate the flow of money into the lawyer’s pockets. Your intentions were honorable. The ensuing squabble? Not so much.

Honestly, sometimes it’s better to let the lawyers duke it out. It may cost you bucks, but it might save your sanity, not to mention your self-respect.

After the brawl is over, you’re driving home, fuming. Now you think of all the clever retorts you could have said. The French call it “esprit d’escalier” (wit of the staircase – you think of the perfect response as you leave). You invent real gotchas, not the shoot-from-the-hip blasts, above.

What if you stayed above the fray? What if you simply walked away from the fight, while uttering something sophisticated, wise, classy and a direct hit? Whether your ex is smart enough to “get it”, or not – it doesn’t really matter. This is for you, your pride, and a tiny bit of arrogance – always a winner in annoying the daylights out of your ex.

For this lineup of classy put-downs, we go to the master himself, The Bard, Wm. Shakespeare. Here are 8 high-brow insults for your next duke-it-out occasion. Be sure to preface it with “As The Bard would say…”:

“A most notable coward, an infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise breaker, the owner of no one good quality.” –All’s Well That Ends Well

He (or she) may have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, but you’ll feel wise, witty, and oh-so-right. Or will you?

Reality check: revenge feels sweet. Truth told, sweet revenge can cause even more anger than you bargained for, and a vicious cycle begins. It’s fun to think about, but no one is really the winner when it comes to revenge. In the long run, escalating the episode with cryptic, crude responses can do you more harm than good.

Dating after divorce – especially after a long-term marriage (termed “grey divorce” – and I despise the term, too, but work with me on this…) – is enormously scary.I don’t want to do it, either. Nonetheless, take a deep breath, don your parachute and walk to edge of the abyss with me. We’ll hold hands and jump together. It’s time to date.

Here’s the number one reason I’m taking the blind leap of dating in January.

The meter is ticking – and I had to get shaken to see it.

As usual, December had stirred up sentimental wistful memories. It was hard as it always is when grey divorce is involved. We have a lifetime of reminiscences and nostalgia to sift through.

But, in mid December, an event burst into my life that rattled my heavyhearted cage. I was deeply shaken by the news of my best friend’s brother’s unexpected death. He was 69.

He was a robust guy – fun, brilliant (Harvard Ph.D.), and healthy. He’d recently fallen in love and they’d announced their plans for a New Years Eve wedding at the top of the ski lift at Heavenly at Lake Tahoe. Then, the ax fell. He fell ill with the big C. With his usual gusto, he opted for an aggressive experimental cancer treatment to save his life. Instead, he died.

The news shook me to my core. Not Jim. Couldn’t be.

Lickety-split, my lens on the world changed. As if someone reached into my brain and rearranged the wheels and cogs, I woke up: Life, our most precious possession, is so fragile and unpredictable. I quit feeling sorry for myself. I re-evaluated what I wanted.

I was tired of waiting for men in my life to “be ready” for commitment. Done with that! Life is too short. Now is all we have. I am going to find myself a guy who is fully committed to life – with me! “To Life! To Life! L’Chaim!” (from Fiddler on the Roof – watch the video and smile!).

Yes, grey divorce has challenges that our younger counterparts don’t have. We have a lifetime of habits and rituals to honor. We have grown children and grandchildren in the mix. Our bodies have drooped. Some of us haven’t had sex in years. Our energy has dropped. Our time line is shorter.

Are any of these excuses for not dating? Not one of them.

I guarantee that the right partner is out there for you, if that’s what you want. Remember that dating is a process, not an event. You’ll kiss a lot of frogs before Prince (or Princess) Charming surfaces. Get started now. Take your time, but do it.

In the meantime, the meter is ticking. Jim’s passing taught me that. I can hear him saying, “Get going! Time’s ‘awasting’”! What are you waiting for? Take my hand and we’ll lean over the edge ever so slightly. Here we go – jumping directly into a new exhilarating life!

Here’s one job you didn’t expect when you got divorced: teaching your friends what not to say to you. Sometimes saying nothing is the best direction to take when trying to comfort you.

Last Sunday, Grace, Susan and I plunked ourselves on our beach towels on the windswept sand at Stinson Beach, just north of San Francisco. Glorious sunshine, wild surf, and that fresh ocean sea scent. The perfect change of scenery for our beleaguered divorced buddy.

Last week, the gavel had come down on Susan’s divorce. She was terrified, confused, and feeling very alone.

Gloria put her arm around her as she cried. “Don’t feel bad.” Gloria said. “You’ll find someone else before you know it. Look at you. You’re beautiful, accomplished, and strong. You’re going to be ok. Just give it time.”

It sounds like the right thing to say. It wasn’t.

Gloria was trying to fix it. That was the last thing Susan needed. In fact, it was contributing to her depression. She simply needed to cry – to grieve – and to talk about it, over and over again, and have her friends listen.

Tragically, no one teaches us how. We are taught to offer solutions, instead. Why? Our society values action and results, logic rather than emotions. A logical solution masquerades as an escape from emotional pain. The well-meaning friend thinks: “If I offer reassurance and a plan, she’ll feel better.” Not necessarily true. Of course, no one wants to watch her friend cry. It’s uncomfortable and painful for everyone. We want to kiss it and make it better.

For Susan, she needs to feel the pain to heal. There are no quick fixes. She needs to talk about it, write about it, and do it repeatedly. That’s the way the brain processes the divorce emotions – abandonment, fear, and sadness. Her pals might have to listen to her story many times, without remedying it or painting a perfect end picture. Their comments, after listening, must validate how she feels, not fix it.

Here are six common clichés about divorce depression and healing.

Tell your friends what not to say.

“Don’t feel bad.” Impossible – of course you’re going to “feel bad”. You once loved your former spouse (or perhaps still do). It hurts. Better for your friend to say: “I know you must be hurting a lot right now.”

“You can replace him.” When you were little, did your pet die? Did your parents instantly find a new puppy for you? You resented the new fur ball, right? There would only be one Fido, and you needed time to mourn. Today, the same principle applies. After the divorce grief subsides, a fresh candidate will appear on the radar. Not a replacement, a unique new model, matching the new you. A better statement: “Take care of you right now.”

“You’re going to be ok.” While it’s reassuring, this is actually saying, “buck up”. Not what you need. You need support for your feelings now. ‘OK’ is a distant dream. A better statement: “This sadness will eventually end, but right now, sounds like you’re heartbroken.”

“Give it time.” As if you have a choice! Again, reassuring, but you need strength for now. Better: “I’m here to help you as you take baby steps to get through this.”

“Be strong for others.” Not so! Kids involved? Allow your children to see your pain (leave blame out, however). Kids learn by witnessing life’s struggles and watching you wind through the maze. They’ll realize that they, too, can survive in spite of challenging times. A better statement: “I know you don’t want your kids to see you so sad, but you’re really giving them a gift. They’ll know that life is tough – and that you can get through it.”

“Keep busy.” Tempting, but too much busy-ness only masks the grief. There may be long stretches when you need to do nothing but sit and be sad. A better response from a friend: “Let me know when we can be together, and when you need private time.”

Tell your friend that you know she wants to help, but these platitudes can intensify the hurt. Then, tell her you’d like her to listen without suggestions unless you ask for them.

What you’d like to hear from her is, “I can only imagine how hard this is. I know I can’t fix it for you, but I’ll be here for you and I’ll listen.”

In the long run, one or more of these cliches may actually be the right direction for you. However, the decision to take action must come from within you, not from outside sources.

Talking about your divorce is critical as you heal. A good therapist or coach will guide you, but he or she will not tell you what you need to do. Only you know that. Keep talking to friends, too, but discern who your audience will be, and educate them. It’ll take the pressure off you both.

During divorce, our work gives us something to hide behind. We aren’t ready to talk about who weare … because we don’t know where we fit any more.

Witness the following:

“My question was, ‘who are you, not what do you do?’” he said.

We leaned on the bar at the symphony fundraiser. He slid me a dirty Martini. I liked him and he was genuinely interested. Apparently, however, my answer hadn’t satisfied him: “I love what I do! I’m a ‘divorce recovery therapist’. You know, coaching people to stay sane and focused through their horrific divorce. I hold a lot of hands.”

“Nice elevator speech”, he said. “Now, who are you, really?”

A flashback to my own divorce interrupted us. I could see myself standing alone at my first foray back to a social life, a similar fundraiser. Someone asked, “well, who are you?”. I didn’t know what to say, especially to a total stranger of the opposite sex. I had lost my identity as a coupled woman, and exposing my newly single, lonely, and scared-to-death self was not going to happen. Instead, I turned to witty repartee about my work.

It’s a full-blown identity crisis – and it’s perfectly normal.

Our brains are scrambled. Who am I in this new life, besides alone and single? How do I describe my life when it’s always been “we”? How do I talk about my break up? What do I say about him/her? Am I ok as my new self, alone?

Exhaustion plays a big role, too, and it’s no wonder. Our brain functions best on familiarity and routine, those elusive elements so vacant in our lives right now. Starting all over again strips you of your comfortable patterns. The house is empty. Daily routines fall apart. Friends and alliances split. Lifestyles change. You’re uprooted emotionally. You may even wonder if you’re manic – high as a kite one day, in the dumps the next.

All of this insecurity is normal for divorce. That’s not much comfort, is it?

Be reassured that it won’t last forever. For a while, your brain needs to be scrambled to recalibrate and shape new habits – the new you. Think jigsaw puzzle dumped on the table. Your brain has to put those pieces back together again. It takes time.

There’s good news: You’ve still got the same strengths that you had before the break up and they’re waiting inside to help you. The sooner you set them free, the faster the “who am I, now?” will be clear.

Here are 6 steps to help you unearth those core strengths, rescue your lost self, and answer the question, “Who Am I, Now?”

Accept what’s happened to you: Get a journal. Write an honest snapshot of you – yesterday and today. Accept the good with the bad, and tell yourself, “What’s past is over. I need to move on.” (You will need to do this exercise several times.) Next, open a communications lifeline with old friends you can trust. Feel alone and scared? Admit it and find help. Get a therapist/coach or join a divorce empowerment group, online or live. You’ll be happy to know you’re not alone in your fears.

Adjust your self-talk: Your brain believes everything you tell it. Listen to your self-messages and change them. Tell the voices of fear to take a hike. Stop the soap opera re-runs of your life. Paste this sticky note on your mirror: “I can do this. Yes, I can! I’m not alone!”

Appreciate. Good things are happening every day. That strong person inside you needs to hear about them. Start by thanking your body for enduring this stress. Write your friends a handwritten thank you note for their support. Keep your sense of humor. Be thankful for that good cry, releasing those nasty toxins through your tears.

Adorn. Step out into the new world in outfits that make you feel confident and show off the real you– all the time, every day – 24/7 – even pjs.

Abbreviate. Simplify! Get rid of old stuff. First stop? Your closet. Dive in and heave out anything that makes you sad, regretful, or simply isn’t you. A cluttered closet is a cluttered heart. Free up space for new energy.

Actualize. “Fake it ‘til you make it.” Visualize the person you dream of becoming. Find your “courage keys” – three adjectives that describe the rediscovered you and carry them with you. I ask my clients to read them out loud whenever they feel down. During my divorce, mine were: Successful, smart, inspiring. Some days, I read them every hour to shove down the fear gremlins. Be bold. Say what you think of your very best self!

You’re finding a new identity. Be gentle with yourself. Be patient. There’s a new you and a new life on the other side. You will get there, I promise.

So, when he or she asks, “Who are you?” tell her/him to call in a couple of months. By then, you’ll have your sea legs and an answer! In the meantime, tell yourself, “Forward! Demons of doubt, take a hike! I can do this. Of course I can.”

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